I write a lot of reader insert stories, and sometimes my favorite ships. I originally started this page as a Supernatural Fic place, but I've branched out to Merlin, Harry Potter, and Marvel. I don't post too often, but I'd like to share the stories I do have time to write.
Here is my master list of everything I have ever written! I have come a long way from where I started and it’s all thanks to you wonderful people. I couldn't be prouder to be apart of this fandom. You guys are my inspiration and support. I am so honored to write for you. As always... LOVE YOU LOTS!
Jordan :)
Don’t Forget the Butter
Don’t Forget the Butter (DEANXREADER)
Don’t Forget the Butter Part Two
Don’t Forget the Butter Part Three
We Don’t Want to be Saved (DeanxReader)
We Don’t Want to be Saved
We Don’t Want to be Saved Part Two
We Don’t Want to be Saved Part Three
We Don’t Want to be Saved Part Four
Body Swap (DeanxReader)
Body Swap: Part One
Body Swap:Part Two
Body Swap: Part Three
Body Swap: Part Four
The Bee Keeper (CainxReader)
Two Little Lines
Two Little Lines (DeanxReader)
I Don’t Have Anybody Else (sequel to Two Little Lines)
You Don’t Have To Do This Alone (Part three of Two Little Lines)
The Voyage Home (Part four of Two Little Lines)
Safe and Sound (Part five to Two Little Lines)
Let’s Go Have a Baby (Part six of Two Little Lines)
One Down, One to Go (Part seven of Two Little Lines)
How Did We Get So Lucky (Final part to Two Little Lines)
Epilogue (Two Little Lines)
We Were Made For This (ReaderxOC)
A Ghost From the Past (SamxReader)
A Ghost From the Past (SamxReader)
It’s a Date (Part two of A Ghost From the Past)
Memories (Part three of A Ghost From the Past)
Just Give In (Part four of A Ghost From the Past)
Let’s Get Her Home (Part five of A Ghost From the Past)
Please Come Home (Part Six of A Ghost From the Past)
Not Just a Ghost (Final Part of A Ghost From the Past)
Summary: The reader is a typical Hogwarts student, she's just trying to get through the next two years of school and spend as much time with her aunt as possible. This gets harder and harder to do when she finds herself falling for none other than Harry Potter. Does he feel the same? What happens when she finds herself in the middle of The Golden Trio's inner circle?It's a crappy summary, I'm sorry. Long story short.. the reader is Neville's best friend and she finds herself getting closer and closer to Harry Potter. She even befriends a certain snowy owl.
I don’t have any beta, so sorry for any typos... also I only own my characters... nothing of HP obviously
Future parts can be found here:
“Are you sure that you have everything?” Your Aunt Jo asked as you placed your owl, Talia’s cage onto the trolly. The brown and white owl screeched terribly at the clang of metal against metal before, once again, attempting to peck her way out of her temporary prison.
“Shush, you,” You whispered before huffing and handing her a treat from your pocket. “You’re okay. We will be there soon.” you soothed, rubbing the top of her head through the bars.
“Are you even listening to me?” Jo asked, exasperated.
“Yes, Aunt Jo, I’m sure that I have everything. I double and triple checked this morning.” She rolled her eyes.
“I know you did, kid. At least let me pretend that you need me.” she teased, with a slight tint of sadness in her voice. You frowned, picking up on her insecurity with ease. That’s what happens when you live with someone your entire life; you pick up on things. You were headstrong and independent just like she was, but lately you had switched roles. That being said, sometimes you forgot that she needed to feel needed.
“I do need you. That’s why I want you to take care of yourself while I’m gone.” She dismissed you, like she often did when you fussed over her. “I’m serious. You’re to go to every appointment at the hospital and send me an owl every week.” She smiled warmly at you, causing your heart to constrict painfully. She always took care of you and made sure that you had everything you needed, but she tended to forget to take care of herself if you didn’t remind her. It wasn’t a chore, you just wanted her to be healthy.
“I’m supposed to be the grown up in this relationship. Not the other way around.” she teased, brushing one of your stray curls behind your ear. “I promise to take care and do as I’m told. You just worry about your classes and friends. I’ll be here when you come home for the holidays and you can fuss over me then” she reasoned. You felt the tears begin to build in the wells in your eyes and you hugged her tightly, hiding the evidence in her shoulder. You tried to take everything in, the smell of her perfume, the feeling of her arms around you, the way that she kissed the top of your head.
“Promise me.” You demanded, softly. You both knew that it was a promise that she couldn’t make- even if she wanted to. The harsh truth was that neither of you knew how long she actually had. When she found out she was sick a few months ago, the hurt had been almost paralyzing, but she insisted that the two of you make the most of your summer holiday. You had gone to the beach, visited galleries and been to shows, fitting as much as you could in three months. The idea of her being home alone, and not feeling well made it incredibly hard to return to Hogwarts this year, but she insisted that you go and make her proud.
“I promise.” Kissing the top of your head, she gave you one last squeeze before you had to get onto the platform. “Now, go on and have an adventure! Go learn some spells, make some potions and meet some boys!” You rolled her eyes in embarrassment before letting her go and grabbing for your trolley.
“I love you, Aunt Jo.”
“I love you too, Bumble Bee.” Taking a deep breath, you turned to face the wall between platform 9 and 10. Hogwarts, here you come.
…..
The Hogwarts Express had not changed much since you had started attending the school six years ago. Usually, you sat in the same riding car, sat with the same group of friends and bought the same sweets from the trolley. This year was no different, you met Luna and Neville on the platform and you found a car to yourselves. As you went through your normal traditions of talking about summer holidays and new Hogwarts drama, your mind drifted to last year. Each year had come with it’s own struggles but last year had been a roller coaster to say the least. Between Dumbledore’s army, Umbrage, and the battle at the Ministry, you had all left school worn down. You hadn’t been present for the battle because you elected to stay behind with the younger members as a precaution-Umbrage was out for blood at that point, but you had seen the aftermath. You remember the sinking feeling in your gut when you saw your friends returned, bruised and bloodied, their faces plastered with grief. Someone had been killed, and no one but the DA members that had gone knew who that was. You had your suspicions that it was someone in the Order but having never been to a meeting yourself, you hadn’t the faintest idea who it was. All that you knew was that Harry had come back heartbroken and Ron and Hermione appeared helpless.
You had always been aware of the tight-knit group of founders in the D.A that knew more than they could, or would, say. It had never bothered you much before then, having trusted your friends unconditionally. Whatever it was, whatever happened- you supposed they would tell you when it was important. Still, it made you wonder.
“You’re going to lose him if you’re not careful.” Neville cautioned, bringing you out of your thoughts to the chocolate frog that you’d opened absentmindedly. Instinctively, you reached out for it and managed to snag it before it hopped out the window. It stilled instantly, becoming an ordinary chocolate treat before you bit it in half.
“Hmmm, thanks Neville.” you mumbled, the sweetness of the chocolate sticking to your tongue. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“What has you so distracted?” asked Luna, who took a bizarre (even for her standards) pair of glasses out of her side bag and peered through them. The colored lens’ made her eyes appear even bigger than they were, you felt like you were under a microscope. “I don’t see any waxburts in your ears, you must have something on your mind.”
“Well, If I’m honest, I’m thinking about last year…. You're sure you can’t tell me what happened at the Ministry?” The two of them looked at each other carefully, Neville shifting awkwardly in his seat. You could almost feel their nerves rising by the moment. You decided to put them at ease. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. I just worry about you, that’s all. I know something bad happened, besides his return. Everyone came back different and I don’t know how to help.”
“We would tell you, but it isn’t our secret to keep. We didn’t know the full situation until we arrived there, ourselves.” Neville tried, clearly uncomfortable.
“Don’t worry Neville. I understand, I won’t ask you again. Just know that if either of you need to talk, I’m here.”
“That’s very kind.” smiled Luna. “It’s like we’re friends.”
“Oh, well… I am your friend, Luna. I care about you.” You assured.
“That’s nice.” She added, before returning to her newest edition of The Quibbler. You exchanged an amused look with Neville. The two of you were used to Luna’s strange behaviors but it didn’t mean some of her commentary didn’t catch you by surprise. Just then, a knock on the car brought your attention to the door where Ginny Weasley was standing with a Pygmy Puff on her shoulder. Her beautiful red hair was straight and came just past her shoulders- shorter you noted than it was when you had seen her last. It suited her. The two of you had grown into a comfortable friendship over the last year, having both been in the D.A and having so many other friends in common. You wouldn’t say you were best friends like you were with Susan, Luna, or Neville, but you felt like you could confide in Ginny… depend on her if it came down to it.
“Hey, Y/N.” She greeted, throwing the other members of the car a wave.
“Hey, Gin!”
“I knew I would find you with these two somewhere.” She scoffed. “It’s like another Harry, Ron, and Hermoine.” The three of you chuckled, knowing full well what she meant. Both groups were near inseparable.
“What’s up?” You asked, curious and slightly thrown off by her presence.
“Professor Slughorn- I think he’s a returning staff. He’s asked a few of the students to have tea in his car. Apparently he has some sort of club.” She shook her head. “The two of us have been invited. Harry as well.” Harry.
“Oh, now?” She nodded.
“I don’t think that it will last the rest of the trip, just a meet and greet of sorts.”
“Brilliant, I’ll walk with you. I’ll be back soon then.” You stared at Neville who was starting to sweat. Your heart warmed at his nervousness at being left alone with Luna who was completely unaware of the boy’s feelings. He had confided in you at the end of last year and since then he’s been terrified to talk to her on his own. “Luna, maybe you can tell Neville about the newest issue of the Quibbler while I’m gone. I’ve already read mine.” Luna looked up from her magazine and smiled softly.
“I didn’t know you were interested in The Quibbler, Neville.” He gulped.
“Ummm, yeah. Newly interested.” He scratched the back of his head and threw you a thankful glance. She shifted closer to him and you watched a blush spread over his cheeks. With the assurance that he wasn’t going to have a heart attack while you were gone, you followed Ginny out of the car towards Slughorn’s tea car.
There were several students already spread out and sipping tea when you arrived. The car was much different than the ones the student’s used, having been converted into a lovely open sitting area with several comfortable chairs and couches for guests. It smelled of old leather and…. Brandy? Surely Slughorn wouldn’t be serving students alcohol on the train, but perhaps he had enjoyed his own refreshments before sending out the invitations.
“Ah, Miss Y/L/N and Miss Weasley. So happy that you’ve found us. Please take a seat.” From the smaller couch across from the older man, Harry smiled shortly, gently waving in your direction. You hadn’t seen him since the end of term last year and the difference was almost startling. He had become more solid, his familiar jacket that was notoriously too big for him, now sat comfortably on his shoulders. He had a bit of scruff on his face, and he sat rigidly straight. His face was more pale than you remembered, and the dark circles under his eyes revealed that he hadn’t slept much over your time off from classes. They looked sad, and a strange thought prickled in your mind that you wanted to fix that. You must have been staring for much longer than you realized because he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze and it occurred to you, that you hadn’t returned the man’s greeting.
“So sorry.” You stammered. “Thank you for the invitation Professor.” He nodded enthusiastically and motioned for you to have a seat. Ginny had already taken her seat next to one of her fifth year friends across the room, leaving the only available seat next to Harry. “May, I?” You asked, suddenly scared he would decline your company.
“Oh, yeah. Of course!” He welcomed, sliding over to sit on one side of the couch and leaving you the other. Grateful, you sat down and accepted a hot cup of tea from the house elf.
“Thank you.” You whispered, smiling warmly at the elf who you recognized from the castle. Harry reached out to offer you the cream and sugar, the smell of his sweet citrus aftershave (or maybe cologne?) mixed with the smell of his peppermint tea caught you off guard.
“Harry here was just telling us about his plans to be an Auror when he’s completed his schooling” Slughorn said energetically. The man’s excitement was almost overwhelming.
“You would make a wonderful Auror, Harry. You have a knack for Defense Against the Dark Arts.” You complimented, thinking back to the D.A and Harry’s knowledge of the subject. The idea of Harry becoming an Auror made sense; he had already proven himself to be a powerful wizard, going up against more than most people his age. But you could see him doing other things too, if he wanted. You suspected that he could do anything he wanted if he put his mind to it.
“Thanks.” He murmured, clearly embarrassed by the attention.
“And what about you miss Y/L/N, have you decided on any particular path yet? I’ve heard you have a real talent for potions.”
“I haven’t given much thought into the future in all honesty, Professor.” He frowned.
“Have your parents not encouraged you to explore your options? You’re a bright witch from what I’ve heard about you. Surely they are pushing you- no doubt to include advanced potion skills.”
Your palms began sweating, a wave of heat rushing through your body. It was your turn to be uncomfortable. You didn’t particularly like this part of getting to know others. Your private life was something that you mostly kept to yourself and your close friends. But there was no way of truly evading the man’s question.
“Actually professor, my parents are gone. They both passed away when I was little.” You admitted, tucking a chunk of hair behind your ear nervously. Being as you were so private with your life, this piece of information was new to Harry, who let out a small gasp beside you. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of your parents, you were actually quite proud to be their daughter. Their relationship had been quite controversial when you were young, your mother being muggle born and your father a muggle. They had gone to primary school together and kept in touch when she got her letter for Hogwarts. ‘True love waits’. Your father had told you once. They were very open in their acceptance of inter-magic relationships and equality. Unfortunately with the prejudice against muggles in the aftermath of the war, they were an easy target for those who continued You-know-who’s work after he was destroyed. “But I live with my Aunt, who is always supportive, even though she doesn’t understand much of the wizarding world- She’s a muggle.” You added, before sipping your tea in an attempt to downplay the situation.
“Ah, well. You’ve got time to decide yet. See me when classes get underway. Maybe I can give you some additional lessons in potions. We’ll find something for you.” He offered, clearly not sure how to respond to your admission.
“Thank you. That would be much appreciated.” You gave him a reassuring smile, knowing how awkward the whole situation was.
“Well, I’d better mingle with the other students. Don’t want to appear to have favorites, would I?” He teased slightly, escaping the conversation with a simple nod. Just like that you found yourself alone with Harry, who still hadn’t said anything. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, drinking your tea.
“Y/N, I had no idea. I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking at you with a slight frown.
“It’s okay, Harry. Really… I don’t talk about it very much. We have some things in common, you and I.” You paused, and took a steading breath. “My parents fought in the war too, they were both in the order actually- although they played a different role. They ran a smaller part of the order that was dedicated to reaching out to muggles who were affected by You-Know-Who. The Death Eaters didn’t like that, even after he was destroyed. I was five.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Last year when we were in the D.A?” You shook your head.
“I suspect for the same reason why Neville didn’t want anyone to know about his parents. I know he told you about them.”
“It’ll stay with me.” You smiled at his sincerity and you knew that you could trust him.
“Thank you, Harry.” You set your tea down on a nearby table and stood, straightening out your jumper. “I better head back and find Neville and Luna. There is only so much the poor boy can hear about Nargles.” This made Harry laugh, and for a moment, he looked a bit lighter.
…….
Dinner was considerably normal, Dumbledore’s welcome speech, as always, held a warning to it’s students followed by a redirection to lighter subjects. Introductions had been made and it was no surprise that Professor Slughorn was introduced at the new Potions Master. What did surprise you however was Snape’s switch to Defense Against the Dark Arts. You weren’t entirely sure how you felt about this piece of information- Snape didn’t always treat students equally. Obviously, he favored his own house over others but it was clear that the man had his own prejudice against muggle born students- yourself included. The feast was well underway when an overwhelming gust of whispers filled the hall. Following the gaze of your peers, you found yourself watching Harry and a woman with bright purple hair enter through the doors. She tried to discreetly approach the teacher’s table, choosing to walk along the wall to attract less attention. She whispered something in McGonagal’s ear- the whole interaction lasting mere seconds-before leaving the way she came. Meanwhile, Harry made his way down the center of the isle to find his seat next to Ron and Hermoine who instantly began to fuss over him. His nose was broken recently, blood occasionally dripping on his clean white shirt. He waved them off and began eating, obviously not wanting the attention of the entire house. After a few moments of silence the regular noise resumed and the rest of the students returned to their forgotten conversations. However, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Harry, feeling the sudden desire to inspect his injuries, comfort him. It was an odd feeling, while you have always been protective of your friends, this feeling that stirred low in your stomach felt different. Maybe it was the fact that he looked so miserable, maybe it was your conversation earlier where you had told him something you hadn’t told anyone but Neville at school.. Whatever it was, it was hard to shake and for the second time that day Harry caught you staring at him. Instead of panicking, like you were on the outside, you flashed him a convincing smile and mouthed the words are you okay? He returned your smile with a small one of his own and nodded. You weren’t convinced, but in order to save face you turned and tried to pay attention to Susan’s conversation with one of the new first year students who was asking about flying lessons.
When dinner was over, student’s rushed off to their house dormitories to settle in, anxious to catch up with their friends and prepare for classes the next day. You, on the other hand, weren’t too anxious about the start of term and took advantage of the almost empty halls to make your way towards the owlery. As promised, the first thing that you did when you had arrived was write a short letter to Jo, letting her know about your interesting train ride to school and purposefully leaving out your interaction with Harry. You still didn’t understand why you had confided in him. You weren’t ashamed of your past, but it was often painful to talk about which caused you to keep it to yourself. But it hadn’t felt like that when you told him, it had felt safe, guarded. There was no point in telling Jo about something that you didn’t fully understand which left your letter simple. Talia was surprised to see you but took her treat and the letter enthusiastically, demanding a scratch to the top of her head before she departed. You watched her fly away, lingering at the window for a few moments when she was no longer in sight.
“Uh, hey.” The sound of another person scared you, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. Subconsciously you reached for your wand, but quickly lowered it when you saw Harry standing in the doorway. Embarrassed, you straightened yourself in an attempt to look composed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. I just came to check on Hedwig.” He apologized, motioning to the beautiful white owl on a nearby perch.
“You’re okay. I was just surprised. Not many people come up here.” You held at your hand to Hedwig and let him peck softly on your hand before stroking her chest. “She’s beautiful.”
“Funny, she doesn’t normally care for other people.” he said, coming closer and patting the top of her head.
“She knows that I have a treat in my pocket. Doesn’t she?” You cooed at the bird who cocked it’s head to the side. You pulled out one of the many treats you keep for Talia from your front pocket. “May, I?” You asked, unsure if Harry minded.
“Of course.” She took the treat happily and rubbed against your hand. “Do you come up here often?”
“Once a week or so. I write home every Wednesday; I prefer to bring the letter to Talia myself instead of passing it through one of the elves. I get to love my owl that way.” He smiled, but didn’t say anything. The silence was comfortable, made less awkward by the owl getting both of your affections. “So, are you going to tell me why your nose is broken?” you asked, keeping your eyes on Hedwig. Normally, you would be shy and embarrassed in these situations, but being with Harry felt easy, and your curiosity was getting the better of you.
“Is it that obvious that it’s broken?” His hand found his nose, his fingers tracing it’s crooked bridge down to the tip.
“It’s definitely not your normal look.” You chuckled, “I can fix it, if you’d like. I’m best friends with Neville so it’s safe to say I know a spell or two for broken noses.” This made him laugh, both of you being familiar with your forgetful, clumsy and lovable friend.
“Sure, have at it.” He braced himself as you raised your wand.
“Episkey.” The spell was followed by a loud crack as the bones in Harry’s nose shifted back into place. He winced in pain for a moment, before feeling around on his face.
“It certainly feels like it’s in the right place. How does it look?”
“Perfect.” You admitted. He blushed, lips curling up on one side. “I mean, it looks like a perfectly normal nose.” You tried. THERE. THERE’S THE EMBARRASSMENT. “Well, I have to be going. Susan will be waiting for me and it’s almost curfew.” You said, scrambling for your forgotten bag by the window and darting towards the door.
“Y/N!” He yelled after you. You turned, completely mortified to make eye contact again. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” You assured, before waving politely and making a beeline for the Hufflepuff common room, leaving Harry alone with the owls.
Dean looks around and sees no one: I like big boys, itty bitty boys. Mississippi boys, inner city boys. I like them pretty boys with the bow tie. Get your nail-
Sam and Castiel walk in:
Dean:
Sam:
Castiel:
Castiel: get your nails did, let it blow-dry. I like a big beard, I like a clean face. I don’t discriminate, come and get a taste
Dean and Castiel: from the play boys to the gay boys. Go and slay boys, you my fave boys!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Summary: A decennial hunt draws neighboring princes to Camelot to track a dangerous three-headed beast, but things go south when one of them starts pursuing Merlin instead.
–
So, this is the best fic I’ve read in a while! There’s just something about it. It does feel in character and generally well written but, I think the author really nails Merlin/Arthur’s dynamic and more than that their chemistry is just *chefs kiss* when they finally kiss (and even several moments leading up to it) I felt like I was 12 again and reading my mother’s romance novels and just feeling warm and gleeful and kinda smitten with the dialogue and the way the descriptions are written. Just that feeling of reading something fun and with characters I really want to see make out lol
I want more of the way this author writes them ^^ like there’s not even smut but, it was still so good because of the aforementioned chemistry and gravity given to the action of kissing and touching someone you’ve wanted for so long
Three weeks after Castiel moves into the bunker, Sam finally starts to look less frazzled. He’s sipping his morning coffee with his feet kicked up at the great table and casually scrolling through the news of the weird on his iPad when Dean wanders out of his room for breakfast. He only gives it a moment’s pause, while tying his robe closed, before he heads to the kitchen. He’s always happy to see when Sam actually looks relaxed in their home.
Cas is already sitting on the bench seat in the kitchen, he’s picking at a bowl of cereal with his spoon and looking slightly… pissed maybe? A little angry and a little sad.
True, it’s not his usual fare. It’s not banana bread, or eggs on toasted sourdough with tomatoes, or big fat muffins with coffee. Dean doesn’t think he’s ever seen Cas take breakfast so lightly.
“Can’t have it all, I guess,” Dean mutters.
Cas looks up. “What?”
“Well, I’ve either got a happy you or a happy Sam, lately. I can’t seem to get both at the same time.”
“Oh, yes,” Cas gripes uncharitably, “I’m sure Sam’s very happy with himself right now.”
Huh. That’s not like Cas.
Dean rubs the sleep from his eyes and moves into family counselling mode. As soon as he’s poured himself some caffeine and maybe started throwing together something to eat he can–
He opens the fridge to a flurry of color.
It’s packed, as always. They’re three big guys, they go through a lot of food.
But now there’s little post-its fluttering on almost every bag and container and bottle in the refrigerator.
They are neon orange and some of them bright blue, like Sam ran out of the first color half-way through labelling everything. It was definitely Sam who did it, that’s his scrawl across each of the post-its. Different items with SAM and DEAN and CASS stuck to the front.
There are more for Dean than anyone else. He does the shopping, after all, and is sort of self-appointed King of the Kitchen.
There are plenty for Sam and a lot of the post-its with his name are stuck to the frou-frou-tofu crap and light beers that only he would want in the first place.
The fewest are labelled for Castiel.
Dean starts yanking the ones with his name off. “Cas, you can eat any of my stuff you want. Don’t listen to him.”
Cas doesn’t comment. Dean glances over his shoulder to see that Cas is still poking at the frosted biscuits in his bowl.
The mood lightens over breakfast as Dean shares some of his waffles with Cas, but Cas gives Sam a bit of the cold-shoulder for the rest of the day.
Dean pulls his brother aside at one point and tells him that if he’s gotta pull this stupid shit, he should just put post-its on the things of his that he doesn’t want Cas or Dean to touch. Sam shrugs, agrees.
And then, a few days later, another flurry of color as Dean walks into the bathroom.
The bunker has this huge room with showers and sinks, in the style of a gym or something, so they share the space between them.
It seems Sam has been through already this morning. Unfortunately, the humidity from the showers has left most the post-its floating around, face-down on the floor, so the different shave gels and shampoos and hair products and– fuck’s sake, there’s even post-its on the different stacks of towels!
Most of the items are still anonymous since the labels didn’t stick.
Dean’s standing there rolling his eyes for a moment and adding “ban Sam from going to Office Depot” to his mental to-do list when Cas comes up behind him, curious.
He scoots by Dean and picks up a few of the papers – the last of the blue and some new bright green ones – from the floor.
His shoulders slump when he turns them over to reveal three that say DEAN and one that says SAM and one that says CASS.
“This is ridiculous,” Cas says, with real spite.
“Yeah. He’s going a little overboard with it,” he scoots close and admits in a low voice, “I think he noticed I was stealing his shampoo but it just smells really good.”
Cas sighs.
The final straw seems to come at the end of the week. Dean and Cas come home from the grocery store to find the library littered with green and pink and yellow and purple post-its.
Cas and Sam get into it immediately. It’s kind of disturbing. Cas and Sam are basically the best geek friends that the world’s ever known. They agree on a lot, if not most things, and it’s disquieting to see them chewing each other out over something they love so much.
Cas points at an area of purple post-its. “First of all, Bobby found most of these, and I found all the ones over here! You can’t possibly divide the books between us, Sam! We all need to do research!”
“There are ones I need to reference all the time and you’re always bogarting them in your friggin’ bedroom! I search high and low for ‘em and I can never find them when I need them! And then him!” Sam points at Dean, “getting potato chip grease stains inside the Bergell Charm Directory and stuffing his stupid Hunger Games books into the spell tomes like we don’t know he’s reading them!”
“Hey!” Dean shouts, defensive.
“If you need a book you can ask me where it is, Sam!” Cas yells back.
“I shouldn’t have to ask! It’s–”
They’re very silent for a sudden moment.
Cas glares daggers. “Were you gonna say it’s your library? Is that what you’re getting at Sam Winchester?” he hisses.
Woah. Okay. This is getting scary. Dean steps between them. “No, that’s not what he said. This is DEFINITELY everyone’s library and we ALL have to use it. Both of you just calm down.”
“I’ll calm down when we can find where somebody left the Eymerich Grimorie,” Sam glares through Dean like he wants to open Cas up and see if the book rattles out of him.
“I’ll calm down when Sam learns to respect the people he lives with and stops accusing me of taking his useless crap,” Cas snaps.
Sam’s spine clicks him up to his full height all of a sudden. “If it’s all so useless why do you keep taking it?!”
“Dean was the one who used up your sprouts in a sandwich! He just doesn’t want to admit to knowing what sprouts are!” Cas shouts.
“How did you know that?” Dean’s drowned out by the yelling.
“And I’m not the one who labels a pile of wet towels under some random name because they can’t be bothered to do the laundry until it smells moldy!”
“Random name?” Sam and Dean both echo.
“MY NAME IS CAS!” Cas yells in their faces. He turns and flips a book closed to reveal the last of the stack of purple post-its. “Here, I’ll spell it for you:” and he writes on the post-it in black marker, C-A-S.
He rips it off the stack, turns, and slaps it on Dean’s forehead.
“Sea-aye-ess,” Cas spells out, pointing to each letter as if Sam needs specific instruction. “One S. ONLY ONE S. I have no earthly idea where you’re getting that extra S from since there’s only a single S in C a s t i e l ,” he says, slow but loud, like he’s talking to someone who refuses to fucking learn.
“I don’t know any ‘Cass,’ he certainly doesn’t live here or I’m sure I’d have FUCKING MET HIM,” Cas snaps, throws the marker at the table so hard it skids off the other side, and marches away.
Dean crosses his eyes to look up at the post-it stuck above his nose.
Sam continues to look petulant but he knows he got his shit called out on the moldy towel situation. “Fine,” he shrugs stiffly. “One S,” he rolls his eyes like, wow, what’s the big deal.
Dean plucks the post-it off his face. “Hey, there really is only one S in Castiel, I mean, it makes sense.” He stares off in the direction Cas stomped off. “I’m actually pretty proud of him for, like, asserting his identity.”
Sam ticks a frown that would be agreement and admiration if he weren’t still being pissy.
He turns to leave the room, maybe go apologize.
But first he turns back.
“Cas labelled you for himself,” he says to Dean. And smirks. And leaves.
Dean turns around the post-it on his thumb. “Huh.”
Dean stares at the leaflet Cas is holding in front of his face, he blinks slowly and stares at Cas then, and one more time his eyes move back to the colorful paper, he doesn't read the words in bold letters written on it, he is too busy trying to catch up with Cas' proposal.
"So, what do you say?"
"Uhhh." He scratches the back of his neck.
"I think it could be nice."
Yeah, sure, he loves doing stuff with Cas, don't get him wrong, but this isn't what he had in mind when Cas told him he wanted to choose their plan for the night. Maybe a movie, a walk, a few drinks, the usual.
Cas stares at him.
"Sam told me," Dean fights back the urge to roll his eyes, or murder his brother, "that couples do this, and the google agreed." The google agreed, okay, fine, Dean melts a little with all the effort Cas has put into this, it doesn't really matter what they do, really, what matters in Dean's book is to do something together.
But still.
"Dancing classes."
"Yes." Sam walks by their open door then, Dean decides to ignore his poor attempt to hide a laugh with a cough. "It's okay, if you don't want to, Dean." And Cas is making this sad puppy face, looking down at the leaflet as he folds it.
"No," Cas doesn't look at him, "I mean, we could try, yeah." Cas gives him a bright smile, so maybe the awkwardness he can see coming will be worth it after all.
-
"Uhm, Cas?"
"What?"
"Did you really read all the info?"
"Yes, why?"
"Dancing lessons for seniors citizens." Dean reads the big sign on the door out loud.
Cas shrugs, Dean smiles and waves awkwardly at a lady.
"Oh." Dean huffs loudly, because come on.
"Yeah, oh." He can't help but smile softly as he watches an old gentleman, with a bowtie and suspenders giving his wife a flower.
"I'm old, older than them, I have the right to be here, Dean." He replies, matter-of-factly, Dean squints at him, shaking his head lightly.
"Oh my god, Cas." Dean eyes the door for a brief instant, ready to bolt, but a woman appears then, clapping her hands a couple times signaling the start of the class.
There is no escape.
He is overreacting, of course, half an hour later he is thinking to himself this isn't that bad, he just have to imagine they are alone, back at the bunker. He is enjoying this as much as Cas after an hour, the angel is resting his head on his shoulder, holding his hand tightly as they sway slowly with the music. Dean lowers his head down from time to time to pepper Cas' head and forehead with light kisses, the angel getting even closer to him with a happy little sigh.
They have to dance with a couple of the ladies there too, all of them really happy to see such a wonderful couple so in love, and Dean, a pretty blushed Dean, thinks he wouldn't mind another thursday night like this.
“Brianna! I’m respecting your privacy by knocking but asserting my authority as your father by coming in anyway! [smashes down Brianna’s door with battering ram]”
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Imagine a Day in the Life @jordanwinchesterimagines - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
